


Advance To Go

by lapsus_calami



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot, abuse of monopoly terms, cursed by a witch, seriously i don't play monopoly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 10:19:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4825280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lapsus_calami/pseuds/lapsus_calami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Go to jail!” Stiles yelled flinging his hands out and it wasn’t what he wanted to say at all, but it was what came out. “Go directly to jail! Do not pass go and do not collect two hundred!”</p><p>Stiles gets cursed by a witch with a sense of humor so now he can only speak in Monopoly terms. It's cause for great amusement and great confusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advance To Go

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://phantomavenger.tumblr.com/post/60854089090/i-want-a-fic-where-stiles-is-being-the-sarcastic) post on tumblr.

**Advance To Go**

Everyone kept laughing. And it was not funny. Not really. Stiles didn’t like the way his mind wasn’t communicating right with his mouth. Didn’t like how everything that came out of his mouth was not what he meant to say. Didn’t like how it reminded him of when he was possessed and only half in control of himself.

But everyone kept laughing because from an outside point of view maybe it was kind of funny.

Isaac was literally rolling around on the floor along with Liam. Mason was doubled over gasping for breath. Malia wasn’t even trying to hide how much she was laughing. Kira was trying to be discrete, but really there was nothing else she could be doing and hiding with her hair because Scott was clearly next to her smiling widely with a goddamn twinkle in his eye. Lydia was shaking her head in exasperated amusement with Parrish giggling uncontrollably next to her. His dad was hiding his laughter and kept clearing his throat as if Stiles couldn’t tell he was two seconds away from outright guffawing, and even _Derek_ was almost smiling corners of his lips twitching up ever so often.

“Go to jail!” Stiles yelled flinging his hands out and it wasn’t what he wanted to say at all, but it was what came out. “Go _directly_ to jail! Do _not_ pass go and do _not_ collect two hundred!”

Everyone cracked up anew. Kira and Scott were clutching at each other to stay standing. Malia had slid down the wall and curled into a shaking ball of mirth. He was pretty sure Isaac and Mason weren’t breathing anymore. Parrish was propped against the desk and turning an alarming shade of red. Even Lydia was laughing now.

The whole thing was _stupid_ so Stiles left ignoring Derek's calls after him because he didn’t have to deal with this shit.

So he ran his mouth off and got cursed by a witch. The Pack could _try_ to be helpful instead of laughing their asses off at his expense.

“Income tax,” he muttered slamming door behind him, which wasn’t even close to what he actually wanted to say. Fuck was more like it. Maybe shit. Maybe Hell. But no matter how many times he sent those words from his brain to his mouth all that came out was a steady stream of, “Income tax. Rent. Rent. Income tax. Boardwalk.”

Fucking Boardwalk.

Stiles leaned against the outside wall of the station with a huff, crossing his arms and glaring across the street. It was late so only a few people were milling about, probably heading home for dinner and a quiet night before going to sleep and repeating the process all over again the next day. Sometimes Stiles missed when his life was that simple.

“Go back three spaces,” he breathed which was a terrible approximation for _fuck my life_ but he supposed it worked. A woman and her two children walked by, one tugging insistently on the arm of her older sister and begging to play monopoly after dinner which was just fucking perfect. Stiles scowled shoving his hands in his pockets and slumping against the wall. Go back three spaces. Income tax. Boardwalk, he was starting to think in Monopolese as well.

The door pushed open slowly beside him and Scott’s head poked out looking a little contrite. “Hey,” he said stepping out to join Stiles.

Stiles scowled deeper. “Advance to the nearest railroad and pay the owner twice the rental,” he said harshly.

Scott furrowed his brows. “Is that Monopoly for _go back inside and fuck yourself_?” he asked.

“Advance to go,” Stiles said forcing a grin that probably looked more like a grimace.

“And that,” Scott said smiling and looking so goddamn hopeful, “means yes. See I’m already learning.”

“Take a trip to Reading Railroad.”

Scott pursed his lips looking up to the sky and Stiles could practically see the wheels turning in his mind. “ _Take a long walk off a short pier_ or more simply _I hate you_ ,” he said. “Which isn’t true. You love me.”

Stiles snorted. “Hospital fees.”

“Bullshit?” Scott said grinning. Stiles rolled his eyes and Scott leaned against the wall next to him knocking their shoulders together companionably. “We’ll figure this out, okay? We will. And I’m sorry we all laughed, I know you must hate this.”

Stiles glanced at him, sighing at his friend’s ridiculous puppy face. “Get out of jail free,” he said.

Scott grinned softly. “Love you too, buddy.”

* * *

“So it will wear off in a few days?” Scott asked again, like he just wanted to be sure. Stiles leaned closer, pressing his arm up against Scott’s shoulder and clenching his hands around the cool metal of Deaton’s examine table.

Deaton glanced at Stiles and nodded reassuringly. “Most likely. I’d say a week at the most. You’re really rather lucky, Stiles. It could have been much worse,” he said.

Stiles scowled at him. “Advance to the nearest railroad and pay the owner twice the rental.”

Deaton raised a single eyebrow understandably confused. Scott coughed, roughly clearing his throat before saying, “That means thank you.”

“Pay income tax,” Stiles said.

“Okay,” Scott said loudly pulling Stiles off the table. “We’ll just be going now.”

“Probably best to keep him home until it wears off,” Deaton said as they were leaving. “And probably best if he’s not left alone.”

“Sure thing. Thanks, Deaton,” Scott called all but shoving Stiles out the door. Stiles shook his hands off scowling. It seemed to be his default expression as of late.

“Go to jail,” he said shaking his head.

“Shut up,” Scott said handing Stiles the spare helmet. “I’ll take you home. We can hang out for a few days. Maybe play some monopoly.”

Stiles glared at him and shook his head. “Pay school fees.” _Scott, you dense bastard, you need to go to school._

“Oh, shit,” Scott said looking incredibly disappointed. “Uh, maybe Lydia?”

“You’ve won second prize in a beauty contest,” Stiles deadpanned. Because Scott was a fucking idiot.

Scott frowned. “No? Oh. You want to stay with Derek?”

“Advance to go,” Stiles said grinning.

Scott rolled his eyes tugging on his helmet and mounting his bike. “Okay. I’ll drop you off and call your dad to let him know everything.”

Stiles clamored on after him, wrapping his arms around Scott’s waist and giving him a quick squeeze. “You inherit one hundred dollars.”

Scott patted his hands. “Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome.”

* * *

“So he needs to stay with me for the next few days?” Derek asked looking somewhere between displeased and gratified at the idea. Stiles, for one, was very happy about the fact. Derek would be less likely to tease him about his current predicament than some of the others, and Stiles would be an idiot to turn down mandatory alone time with the werewolf. Derek and he really hadn’t had any quality time together in a while.

“Yep,” Scott said somewhat hurriedly because he was running late. If he didn’t leave in the next three seconds he’d probably miss first period. “I’ll bring him some clothes and stuff after school. See you later, Stiles.”

“Community chest!” Stiles called after him. Derek raised an eyebrow no doubt wondering what the Boardwalk that was supposed to mean. Stiles wasn’t even really sure; probably something along the lines of _thanks, big guy, you’re the best_. He looked back to Derek, offering the other man what he hoped was an alluring grin. Knowing his complete lack of appeal it was probably more of a leer.

“So, what do you want to do?” Derek asked leaning back against his table and crossing his arms, impervious as ever to Stiles’ charms. He eyed Stiles a moment, a hint of playfulness washing over him. Stiles mentally groaned because whatever was going to come out of Derek’s mouth now was going to be terrible. “There’s some board games in the closet. Don’t think I have your favorite though,” Derek said with a perfectly straight face.

“Draw a chance,” Stiles retorted heatedly.

“Well Scott didn’t leave me a dictionary, but I’m going to assume that means _fuck you_ ,” Derek drawled smirking.

Stiles grinned. “Bank error in your favor.”

Derek smiled softly, ducking his head a bit as if to hide it. “Never thought I’d miss your smart mouth,” he said before moving on quickly. “But in all seriousness, what would you like to do? Did you have breakfast? I can make you something. We can watch a movie. I have some books if you want to read. Or not…” he said trailing off when Stiles empathically shook his head.

Stiles smirked. “ _Electric_ company.”

“Electric company,” Derek repeated slowly. Stiles pointed at one of the open light bulbs. “Ah,” Derek said, “you have a better idea.”

Stiles smirked more adding a little eyebrow waggle as he stepped up into Derek’s personal space. He leaned in close. “Water. Works.”

“Water…are you saying what I think your saying?” Derek asked voice a little strangled and eyes wide.

Stiles grinned wolfishly tugging Derek toward him by the belt loops of the werewolf’s sinfully low hanging jeans. “Water works,” he repeated barely breathing out the words. Because if he was going to be stuck talking only with Monopoly terms for the next week he was going to spend as much of that time communicating with his hands instead of his mouth. Well, he’d be using his mouth a lot too, but maybe not for its usual purpose.

Derek whined a little, hands falling to Stiles’ hips and squeezing reflexively. “Are you sure?” he said as Stiles pressed an open mouthed kiss to his neck.

“Advance to go,” Stiles said biting lightly at Derek’s ear and chuckling at his sharp intake of air.

Derek pushed him back and Stiles frowned. “Just visiting,” he said unhappily.

“I…I just want to make sure you’re sure,” Derek said quickly. “Because I don’t want to misunderstand what…”

Stiles rolled his eyes forgoing any more words and surging forward to capture Derek’s lips in a heated kiss. Derek responded after a moment winding his arms around Stiles’ waist. Stiles grinned delving his fingers into Derek’s hair. Maybe this whole Monopoly-speak thing wouldn’t end too badly.

“Wait, wait,” Derek said pushing Stiles away gently again and ignoring Stiles’ groan of protest. “I’m sorry. I just don’t feel good about doing this without being able to actually talk with you. Maybe we should just take this really slow. Maybe—”

“Luxury tax!” Stiles shouted. “Free parking! Advance to Park Place!”

Derek stared at him wide eyed and shocked.

Stiles framed his face and pressed a forceful kiss to his lips. “Pass go and collect two hundred,” he growled.

Derek swallowed. “Advance to go?” he checked again, voice slightly hoarse as he carefully pressed his hands to Stiles’ face, thumbs brushing his cheekbones and little fingers ghosting along Stiles’ ears.

Stiles nodded frantically. “Advance to go,” he said pressing quick kisses to Derek’s lips. “Advance to go. _Advance to go_.”

 


End file.
